Like a Black Morning Glory
by Marauding-Moonbabe
Summary: Summery: Hermione has been through much more than anyone can suspect. All men are created equal, right? So why does Harry not beat her? Beautiful yet tainted, Hermione is now like a black morning glory. Warning: includes abused and raped Hermione!


**Like a Black Morning Glory**

Summery: Hermione has been through much more than anyone can suspect. All men are created equal, right? So why does Harry not beat her? For once, logic has failed our favorite Know-it-all.Beautiful yet tainted, Hermione is now like a black morning glory. **Warning: includes abused and raped Hermione!**

Disclaimer: For those dingbats who live in a rock, I have something to tell you: I now own Harry Potter! Muwahaha!

Hermione ran hastily out of the room. She looked over her shoulder and sprinted down the corridor awkwardly. She ran into the nearest empty bathroom and slammed the door. "Coloportus," she whispered, locking the door. She quickly sat on the floor and pulled up her pant leg. She touched her calf gingerly, resulting in a gasp of pain escaping from her cracked lips. She put a silencing charm on the door before she steeled herself for what she had to do.

She quickly grabbed her leg above and belong the deep gash and snapped the leg back in line. A horrid scream that tore from her throat echoed in the lavatory. Tears pored down her face as she muttered a healing and numbing spell to connect the shards of her calf together. She stood up and tested her weight carefully. She had done a good job; her whole leg from the knee down was entirely numb.

She looked into a cracked mirror to see a horrid sight. She had a bloody nose and a black eye in addition to a swollen jaw; this was the worst He had been yet. She quickly set her jaw back into position and performed a glamour charm. She conjured a thick paste to decrease the swelling. She nodded to her reflection before she walked to the Gryffindor Common Room. But she had forgotten the bruise that covered half of her left arm…

"Hermione, what happened to your arm?" She hastily looked at her arm and mentally chastised herself. "Nothing Harry, I just dropped a really big book on my arm in the library today." It was partially true; she had dropped a book in the empty classroom when she heard Him come in. Then he did it to her again; he beat her with a vengeance unknown to even the most experienced war veterans. But Hermione felt she deserved it, for she hadn't done her best on her Ancient Runes test. She did know the bonus question, but her lack of sleep kept her from seeing the question properly.

Over the next few weeks, Hermione changed in more ways than one. She would be gone for several hours at a time, presumably at the library. Her schoolwork became, if possible, even better. She took a renewed vigor in doing her homework. She seemed to cherish every moment that was spent working. After finished triple checking her work, she would stare into space for long periods of time, or look strangely at Harry when he spoke.

Finally, Harry made the decision to see what Hermione was up to. He talked to Parvati Patil, Lavender Brown, and Amber Ingle, asking them if they noticed anything unusual about Hermione. "Yeah, now that you mention it, she does put a silencing charm around her bed every night. Of course, Lavender and Parvati didn't notice because they were painting their nails." Amber told him. Parvati commented, "She actually smiled when we were having makeovers. It looked like she wanted to join us when we asked, but she said she couldn't." Harry resigned himself to wait a few more days until he confronted Hermione about her odd behavior.

Hermione's beatings were getting progressively harsher and more frequent. Even the smallest things she did now would set Him off. One night at dinner, He seemed even worse than usual. He sent her a short note. _Hermione, Meet me in Room 666 in 30 minutes. If you don't, you know the consequences. Come there, and don't be late. _Hermione folded it up, mumbled something about Professor Vector needing to see her unneeded extra credit project, and walked as calmly as she could out of the Great Hall. She ran to her dormitory and set out a few essentials she would need to summon later. Then she put on a dark, hooded cloak and steeled herself for what was sure to happen.

Maybe since the school was going on Christmas break tomorrow, He wouldn't be as harsh on her. She knew he would get wind of her not being the first person to conquer the new charm. She also made a 121 out of 122 on her Transfiguration quiz. There was a question in Arithmacy that she didn't know the answer to as well. Still, she could only hope he was in good spirits because of Christmas break.

She hurried down the corridor as quickly as possible. The threats he had uttered were looming over her head. She heard a crash; Peeves had decided to delay her. _Crash, thunder, boom. Where do secrets loom? Peevsie knows and he will tell. He has heard a big loud yell!_ Obviously, Peeves had heard some bloke thrashing about in a broom closet, and decided to dump water on the poor guy's head. The delay had made her late though; she sprinted as fast as she could with the heavy cloak on to Room 666. She cringed inwardly as she skidded into the darkened room. She was over 30 seconds late. All hope of high spirits vanished as she heard the door close and lock itself. She realized she was shaking uncontrollably.

"Hello, my pretty. I see you are wearing a cloak. Are you afraid that someone will see what a wretch you have become?" His deep voice whispered ominously. Hermione shivered. " What my pretty, are you scared?" "No, I swear, I was just cold." She felt his arm slide around her. She knew better than to fight, she learned it made it worse a long time ago. "You're always cold, you wretch. Let's see if you are warm anywhere."

Now Hermione understood why he wasn't yelling. He wasn't beating her tonight. For the first time, he wasn't going to beat her. Her heart leapt with glee, and then she realized what would happen in exchange for not being beaten. She forced back tears that so desperately wanted to escape, because tears would anger him.

His arm went tightly around her neck. She closed her eyes and floundered for some logic that would help her. She saw no hope, so she wandlessly and nonverbally thought about her midsection. _Protego. _He slapped her across the face, sending herself sprawling across the floor. She sensed a difference in His presence today. She realized it just before she was knocked out from a broken rib. Before her eyes shut, she saw Harry's face looming before her.

Hermione woke up in Room 666 hours later. She gingerly did a body check. It appeared that she had a broken rib, a black eye, and what felt like a broken nose. Her middle was unusually clear of injuries, but she moved lower to find that she was very sore and bruised. Her ankle was very swollen; He must have shattered it.

She awkwardly made her way to the large desk at the front of the room. She pulled herself onto it with a moan. She reached into the depths of her consciousness and pulled the energy needed for magic to the front of her mind as she summoned her wand. The effort made her nearly faint; wandless magic over long distances was taxing. She slowly healed her numerous wounds. She put her cloak on once more and slowly walked out of the room.

She looked to her clock; it was past midnight by at least three hours. She entered the Common Room and threw herself on the couch. "Wuzagoinon?" She leapt up quickly, much too quickly for a person who was just beaten and raped. She fell to the ground with a strangled cry. Harry helped her onto the couch. "Hermione, what's wrong?

Hermione yelped in fear as she saw Harry's face, the face that she had seen before her innocence was lost… "I… I fell asleep in the library, and when I woke up I fell on a lantern and bruised my ribs a bit. Nothing to worry about. Anyway, I'll see you later; my back's really sore from sleeping in that position." "Hermione, wait a-" but Hermione had already fled up the stairs.

Hermione put the usual charms on her bed before she collapsed. She was going to see her parents tomorrow. They were all going to Romania on holiday. Maybe there, He wouldn't get to her. She had come so far since the beginning of school. At the beginning of school, she had thought he really cared about her. He never pressured her to do anything stupid, he loved when she made good grades, and he seemed to really _care._ Then, one day, she came to him upset that she made a 98 on her most recent essay…

_He slapped her arm a bit too hard._

"_What on this dear, good earth was _that _for?"_

"_You should do better on your grades. I care for you too much to let your future go down the drain like that." _

"_And so I deserve to get a slap on the arm?" Hermione asked while fingering her wand slowly._

"_Yes. You didn't do your best; you deserved every bit of it. It was punishment for slacking off."_

"_I can decide when I need punished, thank you."_

"_But you said you were upset and that you didn't do your best. I was helping you, honey, by bringing you back on track. I'm sorry if it hurt you, but you really needed it to keep you focused."_

The slaps got harder, and progressed to light punches. Then, he would summon her to classrooms to punish her. She really needed the beatings, though. She hadn't always done her best; she sometimes did think about going outside to do her schoolwork. It simply wasn't acceptable, and He set her right.

She left by Floo the next morning, leaving only a note for Harry and Ron explaining she most likely would not be coming to the Burrow due to being in Romania.

As she walked into her living room that walls seemed to be made of books, she heard a squeal of excitement come from her mother. She flinched at the loud noise and hesitated slightly before she accepted the teary embrace. Her father came toward her with his arms wide, a huge smile on his cheery face. She yelled and pulled her hands up over her head in defense to an invisible attack. "Hermione, are you all right, honey?" her father asked, clearly hurt and shocked.

"Um, yeah Daddy, I just bruised my ribs during Charms yesterday. I'll be okay in no time." She was still visibly stiff in her father's embrace, though.

Romania was relatively interesting. It was nowhere near as educational as France, but it was much nicer than skiing in the Alps. Hermione generally avoided popular places though. On the last day of Abroad, they went to a familiar dragon reserve.

"Oh, look Hermione, isn't that one pretty?" Hermione's mother said as she pointed to an Antipodean Opaleye. She nodded mindlessly as she saw a familiar figure walking towards her. As the redhead walked toward her, he shouted, "Ron said that you were coming down here, Hermione. How are you?" Mr. Granger stepped up to him, "Oh, you must be Ron's brother, Charlie. Hermione told us all about you." Charlie and Mr. Granger shook hands.

_It must be a face for Charlie to put up, to get on Daddy's good side._ Hermione thought. Charlie went up to Hermione to hug her. She yelled and stumbled backwards clumsily. "I tripped, sorry." Hermione said hastily, her eyes shifting nervously. Her hands were convulsively picking at her long, thick jeans. Charlie, with his eyes that could spot a snitch faster than anyone, saw what really happened. "Can I talk to you alone Hermione?" When her eyes grew round, he said, "I was just wondering about something I heard about Ron over break." She relaxed a bit. "Here, Mr. and Mrs. Granger, you can go buy yourself some coffee while Hermione and I talk in my office." The Grangers nodded and set off for the coffee machine.

Charlie let Hermione go into his office before him. He shut the door softly as Hermione flinched. She was scared beyond imagination. _All men are created equal, so why should Charlie be any different? He'll be nice for a few minutes, and then he'll punish me. That what all men do, that's what all men should do. _Charlie's soft, sympathizing voice brought her out of her thoughts.

"Hermione, who did it?"

"What are you talking about, Charlie?"

"Who beat you; who raped you?"

"No one, Charlie."

"Then what is this?" He touched her bruised ribs gently as she inhaled swiftly.

"I fell, and I shouldn't have."

"Who pushed you?"

"Charlie, I said no one."

" I know better. I saw it too much while I was at school. Now who did it?"

"It was… I can't say."

Charlie sighed. "Hermione, Ron never told you about Celia Gears, did he? Well, she was my best friend all through school. She started dating this bloke, Thomas Moon, a Ravenclaw with a heart of ice, in 7th year. I soon discovered that she would cringe at seeing me, that she flinched at loud noises. Trying to hug her sent her sprawling backwards. Finally, I followed her on one of her nighttime wanderings. I saw her trying to heal her wounds. She looked like she had been mugged three times over.

"She told me that Thomas Moon had been helping her; he was punishing her for not doing her best in Quidditch. She asked if I was going to beat her. She honestly thought that after how long I had known her, that I would beat her. I asked why she thought I would do that to her. 'All men are created equal, so why shouldn't you punish me?' As tough and strong as my reputation was, I gathered her in my arms and _cried_. I cried for the horrible things she had been through. The next day I found out that Moon had took his N.E.W.T.s early, and had left the school to take a job in Bloomsbury. Celia's life got so much easier after she told someone. Tell someone. I'm here, I understand, I care. Tell me."

"It's… it's… a 7th year Ravenclaw, Michael Corner."

"Did he Polyjuice himself to look like Harry, or was it Ron?"

"Harry."

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry." He picked Hermione and curled her up in his arms. She willingly folded into his embrace. _He's not going to beat me. He doesn't want to hurt me. Charlie is better than all those other men. I can trust him. _With that, Hermione did what she was supposed to do all along- let go. She sobbed until she had nothing left in her but joy that she didn't have to deal with Michael anymore.

Her parents noticed that she was much happier after she talked to Charlie. She smiled a bit every so often. She no longer minutely scooted away from passing men. She positively ran into her father's arms before she Flooed back to Hogwarts. She had a letter clutched in her pocket all the while.

_Hermione,_

_You know you can trust me. Not all men want to hurt you, not even the majority. Only Michael wants to. I will correspond with Harry. If you don't tell him, I will. I can't come to Hogwarts, but Harry cares about you. Remember the face that hurt you wasn't Harry; it was Michael. Tell him; he can help you. I'll be in touch; don't make me take time off and come up there._

_Don't lose hope,_

_Charlie_

"Um, Harry, I'm going somewhere in a few minutes. Will you um… follow me while your wearing your cloak?"

"Yeah, but Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Not now. Just follow a little behind me and no matter what happens, do NOT interfere."

So Hermione made her regular walk to Room 666. For the first time, she was not going to stand for this abuse. She was going to stand up for her basic rights.

She walked in the dark room like there was nothing different. She felt Harry walk past her and stand next to the wall. She wordlessly immobilized him against the wall as she heard Michael walk toward her. " Come back again, my pretty? Have a nice holiday?" He tried to slide his hand around her again, but she slapped it as hard as she could. Stunned, he didn't react. She took it as her cue to talk.

"Michael Corner, you will not do this to me anymore. You have taken everything from me. You broke my ankle, my nose, and my leg. You have slapped and punched me so many times I can't count them anymore. Then, you took my innocence from me. I will not be treated that way any longer. I do not deserve to be punished, and I won't stand for it anymore."

With renewed vigor, Michael punched her across the face. She faintly heard her jaw dislocate. She snapped it back into place quickly and said through the pain, "You won't do that to me anymore." She released Harry from his bonds. He took off his invisibility cloak and said darkly, "If you want to escape this castle with your life, you better leave now and never come back." Michael fled out of the room and out of the Great Hall. He Disapparated without a glance backwards.

"How long, Hermione?"

"The beginning of the year."

Why didn't you tell Ron or me?"

"I was afraid. He said he would kill you and my family if I told. Then, Charlie told me about his friend that went through the same thing in school. He convinced me to tell you."

"I can't believe that Michael would do that."

"I don't think so either. In fact, I know so."

"How did I know that was coming?"

"Harry James Potter, don't you start with me."

"Yes ma'am."

Hermione glared at him. Then, "He was doing it under someone's orders. I think he was put under the Imperious curse."

"By who?"

"Theodore Nott. 7th year Slytherin."

"What?"

"Yes. I remembered that before… the worst night… happened, he muttered something about 'Yeah, Nott, I hear you.'"

"Nott's dead meat."

"Harry… don't you dare."

"I won't. Not today. Anyway, you are going to Madam Pomfrey's."

Hermione didn't put up a fight. She headed toward the hospital wing, after which had to retell her story to both her Head of House and the nurse. She was forced to stay overnight, which was a rather good decision on the whole, as Harry now had to tell Ron what happened and owl Charlie in Hermione's stead.

"Miss Granger, you have visitors. Would you like to admit them?" Hermione nodded her approval as Charlie and a strange woman walked in. "Hermione, I would like you to meet Celia."

The woman walked into the bright light, causing Hermione to see her features better. She had a certain tomboy and roughish look to her, yet was very pretty that way. She wore no makeup or hair-dye; everything about Celia was natural, from her low pigtails and hazel-green eyes to her dark blond hair and denim overalls. Celia's eyes widened in shock as she saw Hermione. She stumbled to her bed and collapsed next to the younger witch and hugged her, silently crying.

Charlie looked distinctly uncomfortable with this. Shifting his feet, he said, "I'll just go visit with old McGonagall for a moment." And with that, he ran out of the infirmary doors as fast as he could. The crying women took no notice of his immaturity, however.

As Hermione cried, she reflected on what happened. _"They're not all equal, are they? Charlie is to be trusted, and Harry can be. Ron can be trusted, I think. But the others… will I ever be the same?"_ She voiced her thoughts to a still-sobbing Celia.

"Oh, Hermione, I'm so sorry. You should have never been through this. It's going to take a long time to get over that fear. Moon Polyjuiced himself to look like Charlie, and from what I've heard, the same happened to you. It was months before I could truthfully look Charlie in the eye again. But that time will come, and you can gradually stop thinking about it every minute of your life. Sometimes someone might jump out at you, and you defend yourself in ways you never thought possible, but eventually you'll be able to look a man in the eye without fear. The day you find you can do this is a wonderful day. Me, it was when I got this." She held up her left hand to reveal a beautiful Japanese created ring.

"Charlie gave it to me. He has an identical one, and these rings, just these two alone, are magnetic to each other. We were engaged two months ago. We haven't told anyone because of the war. The wedding will be next December 26, the anniversary of the day I confronted Moon with Charlie. Will you be a bridesmaid? I want someone who knows what I've been through to be in the wedding party."

Hermione could do nothing but nod. She would someday be back to normal; at least, as normal as a witch best friends with the hero of an entire hidden world could be. There would be weddings and funerals, and she would be happy and sad. There would be more to Hermione Jane Granger than the shell she had been from now on. And she could enjoy a day in the sun as well as a night of rain with the weight of so much now lifted off her shoulders, however briefly it would be returned with the love of family and, almost more importantly, friends.


End file.
